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Inscribed in orange ink, upper right: "21"

Lettered inside image: "O Vala! O Jerusalem! do you delight in my groans! | You O lovely forms, you have prepared my death-cup: | The disease of Shame covers me from head to feet: I have no hope. | Every boil upon my body is a separate & deadly Sin. | Doubt first assail'd me, then Shame took possession of me: | Shame divides Families, Shame hath divided Albion in sunder: | First fled my Sons, & then my Daughters, then my Wild Animations, | My Cattle next, last ev'n the Dog of my Gate; the Forests fled, | The Corn-fields, & the breathing Gardens outside separated, | The Sea: the Stars: the Sun: the Moon: driv'n forth by my disease. | All is Eternal Death unless you can weave a chaste | Body over an unchaste Mind! Vala! O that thou wert pure! | That the deep wound of Sin might be clos'd up with the Needle, | And with the Loom: to cover Gwendolen & Ragan with costly Robes | Of Natural Virtue, for their Spiritual forms without a Veil | Wither in Luvah's Sepulchre. I thrust him from my presence | And all my Children follow'd his loud howlings into the Deep. | Jerusalem! dissembler Jerusalem! I look into thy bosom: | I discover thy secret places. Cordelia! I behold | Thee whom I thought pure as the heavens in innocence & fear: | Thy Tabernacle taken down, thy secret Cherubim disclosed. | Art thou broken? Ah me, Sabrina, running by my side: | In childhood what wert thou? unutterable anguish! Conwenna! | Thy cradled infancy is most piteous. O hide, O hide! | Their secret gardens were made paths to the traveller: | I knew not of their secret loves with those I hated most, | Nor that their every thought was Sin & secret appetite. | Hyle sees in fear, he howls in fury over them. Hand sees | In jealous fear: in stern accusation with cruel stripes | He drives them thro' the Streets of Babylon before my face: | Because they taught Luvah to rise into my clouded heavens. | Battersea and Chelsea mourn for Cambel & Gwendolen: | Hackney and Holloway sicken for Estrild & Ignoge: | Because the Peak, Malvern & Cheviot Reason in Cruelty, | Penmaenmawr & Dhinas-bran Demonstrate in Unbelief, | Manchester & Liverpool are in tortures of Doubt and Despair, | Maiden & Colchester Demonstrate: I hear my Children's voices, | I see their piteous faces gleam out upon the cruel winds | From Lincoln & Norwich, from Edinburgh & Monmouth: | I see them distant from my bosom scourg'd along the roads, | Then lost in clouds; I hear their tender voices! clouds divide: | I see them die beneath the whips of the Captains; they are taken | In solemn pomp into Chaldea across the bredths of Europe; | Six months they lie embalm'd in silent death: worshipped, | Carried in Arks of Oak before the armies in the spring. | Bursting their Arks they rise again to life: they play before | The Armies: I hear their loud cymbals & their deadly cries. | Are the Dead cruel? are those who are infolded in moral Law | Revengeful? O that Death & Annihilation were the same! | Then Vala answer'd spreading her scarlet Veil over Albion."